Getting it Right - Les Miserables 2012

Well, this made me bawl my freakin' eyes out.  Weeks ago there was a leak of this trailer in low quality, and the Broadway hounds pounced.  Let'em.  I like this.  Friends and I long talked about how great it would be to see a Les Miserables film musical that had the balls to be a grim, dirty, ugly production where people cried, had snot on their noses, ugly teeth and generally looked like they smelled awful.  You know, cuz they're so Miserable that they're Les.  Tom Hooper, a rather brilliant Oscar-winning director (The King's Speech, yo!) seems to have nailed it, at least from this trailer. Yes, the LES MISERABLES 2012 FILM TRAILER!
Yeah, I like this.  And yeah, I'm one of those homos that doens't get the appeal of Patti Lupone so I'm pretty darn thrilled that Hathaway is singing like her heart has just died, as opposed to singing as if she has a big old BELT in her and she wants a Tony award.  Suck on THAT, Lupone.

Les Miserables is a film property you have to work your ass off to screw up.  You get handed those characters, in those situations, with those songs and it's your job to lose.  You get to film "One Day More" - quite possibly one of the most stirring moments-of-song in modern theatre history.  You get to have a wee poor lass sing her unrequited love as she lays dying of a gunshot wound in the rain, happy for the first time because the man she's always loved will simply *hold her* while she dies.  You get a young boy shot to death while collecting bullets.  Basically, people die every five minutes, and yet your soul is stirred and moved, as opposed to just plain depressed.
We all want to see Eponine die in the rain (it's this show's "And I Am Telling You..." moment).  We all love Eponine in Act II, Cosette not so much.  Sure, she was cute when singing that treacly ballad as a kid in Act I (please feel free to cut "Castle on a Cloud", Mr. Hooper), but then bitch grows up and gets life handed to her.  And no matter how well cast he is, Marius always comes across as a putz, sorta like Chris in Miss Saigon.  No matter how good an actor you are, you look like a wimp next to the ladies you're opposite.

I cannot wait to see this film.  Broadway-to-film translations have a tricky history.... so many times they get what made the stage show magical utterly wrong.  I've been forgiving to some, critical to others.

Chicago? Sublime. Perfectly cast, stylish as hell, and the score sounded sexy as all get out.  I can literally watch this film ALL THE TIME.

Mamma Mia!? Well, I have a personal connection to the stage show and thought the film was badly shot (Greece has never looked uglier), unimaginative (don't just point the camera at people, use it to TELL THE STORY), and I couldnt' figure out why everyone seemed 20 years too old for the role.  Meryl talking about how hard it was to be a single mother? In the 1980s? When she was, apparently, in her mid/late-thirties? No, sorry.  You're a wonderful actress but you're wrong in this role. And Pierce Brosnan can't sing.  Some good acting performances, to be sure, but for me the film is saved most by Amanda Seyfried, who is heartbreakingly sweet.  This show doesn't need to be a puff-piece; cast the right group of actors and you have a terrifically engaging and emotionally moving experience.  Trust me, I'd know.  ;-)

Hairspray? Fun, but with no weight. No pun intended. Miscast roles with people who couldn't actually dance or sing, in a show about the joy of dancing and singing.  Meh.  It was fun, enough.  But the stage show packed an emotional punch and reached levels of outright joy that this film just didn't reach.

Dreamgirls? A beautiful production, slick and gorgeous, and acted with passion yet still missing the hard-edged grit a black filmmaker would have likely brought to this specific story. Hudson is Queen, yet Beyonce deserves credit for actually singing below her own abilities in order to convey the talents of her character.  That's a good thing.  I like this film.

Rent? Fabulous.  If you're 12. And have never seen the stage version. And don't know what AIDS is.  It was too glossy, too pretty, too art-directed, and unfortunately brought out the undercurrent that this is a show about a group of young people who are against everything and aren't actually FOR anything. At all. And yet.....I own it. On DVD.  Because I still like to have individual moments available for my viewing at the click of a button. . Sue me. My sister was unfamiliar with RENT until she saw this film, and she LOVED it.  So, as an intro for newbies it seems to do the trick.

The Phantom of the Opera?  Ok, well, I actually love this one even though I know how badly-directed it is.  Why do I love it?  Because it's a preposterous over-the-top gothic melodrama that rocks it balls-out.  Plus, Emmy Rossum is ravishing as Christine.  She stepped onscreen and my heart skipped a beat.  I swooned. It was simultaneously the gayest and straightest I've ever felt in my entire life. Plus, I wanted to have mad sex with the Phantom.  I don't know if I'm supposed to feel that way, but I'm not going to complain. Rock me, sexy Phantom!  Schumacher perpetually has his camera in gorgeous places, but the wrong ones - yes, your sets are faaaabulous. But please allow the camera to linger over the luminous Emmy Rossum a bit more.


Sweeney Todd?   This one works great as a film.  It's lacking what I loved most about the stage version, namely the chorus numbers, but the film works as a dark intimate and chamber piece.  The design is great, the actors put thought into their characterizations, and the score sounds lush.  Are the vocals stellar? No.  But they're not bad at all, and in the film's context they work.

The Producers? More boring than church.  Point and shoot filmmaking at its most mundane.

Little Shop of Horrors?  Ok, freakin' amazing.  Yes, the ending is different. Yes, some songs are missing.  But this film is a raucous delight.  Ellen Greene recreates her stage role and is PERFECTION, in fact there are no slackers in this cast.  Everyone nails it.  The visual effects bringing Audrey II to life as astonishing, the film has the perfect backlot-feel of a classic Hollywood musical with the dark humour of Roger Corman.  I love this film.

NINE?  Eek.  Well, here's the thing - the women are fabulous. Scene for scene, the film works.  But it doesn't add up to anything as the final resulting message is THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF THE MESSAGE OF THE STAGE SHOW!!!  Cruz is a knockout, Cotillard is a heartbreaking wonder, the film looks incredible, Fergie (against all odds) is a dynamo in her number and even the fluff-numbers of Kate Hudson have a certain flair.  But the film leaves you empty.  Ravishing to take in, but no substance.

Evita? I love every single fucking thing about the film version of Evita.  So fuck off.  I love it, everyone in it is amazing, including Madonna who is perfect in every way.  If you disagree you can kindly fuck the fuck off.  The orchestrations are killer, Pryce and Banderas sing with fire and passion, but it's Madonna's show and she knocks it outta the park.

SWEET CHARITY - prepare to have your heart lifted, and then broken into a million pieces and then stitched back together again with a thread of Hope. Flawlessly filmed and acted, with iconic choreography.


And now we come to Les Miserables, this Christmas.  I am literally counting the days.  And I'm stocking up on Kleenex.



EDIT - saw Les Mis in a packed cinema on Boxing Day with my family.  And we all wept buckets.  Many hate this film.  I dunno. It worked for me.  I liked the rawness of the vocals, i liked all the close ups, the swooping camera moves, and i liked that it sounded like people singing monologues, not vocalists showing off their chops.  I have my quibbles (Jackman's choice to BELT Bring Him Home!?!?) but more often than not I was completely caught up in the melodramatic sweep of it all. Would I buy the soundtrack album? Of course not. I have the London and Broadway casts, but this is a Blu-ray I've watched more times than I should admit. ;-)

Pitbull Puts Her Toy Away

Penny Lane, again.   You see, she has this ball she loves that is kept in the local park.  Hidden.  Buried.  She goes to the park, she digs it up, and when it's time to go home she buries it all over agin.
Why?
Because she's the cutest damn thing in the world, that's why.

Enjoy. ;-)

Baby Steps, Baby Paddles

Two summers ago, Penny Lois Lane was introduced to Lake Ontario. She would wade in, then get frustrated and bark when the water reached her neck. Grumbling, she'd get out of the lake as fast as she could. She would not enter the water and learn to swim, so I carried her in and dropped her. She learned. But you gotta love the air-paddle, eh?

Disgusting 90s Pop Music

Now, don't get me wrong - I LOVES ME SOME 90s POP! But I also remember the madness....

Turn the volume up loud so you can hear the insanity. Oh, the 90s. What a classy decade you were. For some reason late-90s pop took on the kind of "WHAT DID THEY JUST SAY!?!!?" craziness that plagued late-80s hair-metal ("they say she's too young, but she's old enough for me", anyone? Ewwww) .

They're not even CLEVER with their collective ick-factor, they're just plain gross. They barely count as double-entendres or "Insinuendos", I like to call 'em.

Behold three, of many, pop songs that make me less-than-nostalgic for the 90s.

Reminders of Love

Just out for a little walk in my neighbourhood, taking in the sun and the brisk March air. I stop by a fast-food joint because baby needs him some french fries, and like a true Canadian* I happily take my place in line.

*Canadians LOVE to queue. We LOVE it. We can't WAIT to wait for our own turn for something that we're all going to get in good time!*

Before me in line I see a bouncy, happy, giddy young boy and his father. As they approach the register the kid's bouncing becomes an outright joyous bounding and squealing. His father laughs. The woman behind the register beams. I see that her picture is on the wall next to the register. She's the Employee of the Month. This young boy is her son - her husband brought him by so he could see the Employee of the Month framed picture of his mother.

The woman is glowing.

The husband is smiling.

The kid is so happy. He's looking at me and some of the other people in line, to make sure we know that that's his mom in the picture.

I'm standing in line trying not to completely dissolve into a puddle of tears. The dad takes out his iPhone so he can take a picture of his son and wife next to the framed photo. Oh, lord. Now I'm now officially working my scrawny ass off to not burst into a fit of tears. It's just the sweetest damn thing I've seen in ages.

The kid's smile could end war.

The husband's love and adoration of his wife is so lovely that I want to throw myself onto a sword and die, because......well I don't know why. It just sounded like something intense to say.

The mother's glow of pride is what kills me most - I can see it in her eyes: how happy she is that she did well, that it was recognized, and that the recognition has in turn made her son and husband proud.

An exchange of smiles, kisses (the dad holding the wee-one up to kiss his mummy, which he caps with an "I love you mommy!" ((bless!))) and they're on their way.

I came for a guilty-pleasure deep-fried treat and ended up getting an unexpected serving of soulfood that I suspect will nourish me for weeks.

I walked home in the rain. Bawling. This is not an exaggeration. Thank God for hoodies.

Oh, and the fries never tasted so good.

Ally of the Year

Brian Burke, General Manager of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Proud ally of the LGBT Community.

Brian's son, Brendan, Came Out a number of years ago and was tragically killed in a car accident before Brian was able to fulfill a promise to his son to march in the LGBT Pride Parade with him. Mr. Burke, however, continues to honour his son by not only marching with PFLAG in the Toronto Pride Parade but by continuing to be a visible and vocal advocate for the LGBT Community.

This man is a hero.

Thank You, Mr. Burke. Brendan would be so proud of you.

It's the Little Things...

Nothing big, nothing major. Or is it? Maybe it is. A Christmas card, from my sister and brother-in-law, that addresses a brother and his boyfriend. A card for people who love their gay siblings.

It's the little things that make you happy, and with it the realization that maybe they're not so little after all...

Brian Burke - A Proud Ally

Brian Burke, Toronto Maple Leafs general manager and father of the late Brendan Burke, shares a message and a plan to help make life better for LGBT youth and the community.

Make it Beautiful

Oh, Mike Murphy. You beautiful, beautiful man with your incredible eye for beauty in unexpected places and things. Check it out, folks. This is how you make your pad look amazing, and give it your own personal flavour.

Good tips, great ideas and he sure is heaven to look at.

Tags: Gay Video & Lesbian Movies, Logo: Fierce TV

The Unbearable Whiteness of Being

Oh, Abercrombie & Fitch. How you never change. They say "if it aint broke don't fix it" but the problem is that something is indeed pretty darn broke but A&F and a great many other clothing companies and advertisers have no interest in fixing it. Mainly because it doesn't affect them directly, nor their profits.

Abercrombie & Fitch, as everyone well knows, is a clothing line targeted and marketed to young'uns with SEX on the brain. SEX SEX SEX. Their catalogues are softcore porn, their clothing models are often barely clothed, they staff shirtless "greeters" in their stores which happen to be as brightly lit as your average bathhouse. None of that irks me, however. Not remotely. I'm no Puritan. What bothers me is the overwhelming Whiteness of it all. White White White. White folks all around.

The Whiteness of Abercrombie & Fitch is well known enough that even Family Guy calls it out:

Family Guy - AbercrombieDiversity Joke

Get More: Family Guy - Abercrombie Diversity Joke

It's a joke. Only it's not a joke as it seems the company itself doesn't give a fuck. "Aberzombies" has even officially become a well-known and oft-used parody name.

Who wears Abercrombie & Fitch? Well, millions of people clearly and it remains very popular with the younger gays and the not-so-young gays who still desperately want to look like Young Gays. It's pseudo-wannabe "jock" wear. Shirts that proclaim "VARSITY!" in big old letters across the chest. Yeah. Varsity........riiiiiiight. Wearing that shirt that reads ABERCROMBIE across the front, in letters as big as your face, and VARSITY across the back is totally gonna make people think that you're a rough-and-tumble sports lover.

*le sigh*

Their marketing is very specific - it's not just buying a shirt, it's buying into a very specific image - Privileged And White. Their clothes are not cheap. To wear them means you're a White With Money. For the gays it's clothing for those who are still under the delusion that wearing A&F makes one not only look like a Straight White Jock (note: it doesn't) but that it also makes one appealing to said Straight White Jocks....in a decidedly non-straight way. Clothing for gay people who want to look "straight" who don't realize that nothing looks gayer than what they just bought at A&F - ensembles that embody what a clueless gay person thinks about straight people.

You all know how I feel about this bullshit culture of "no fats femmes asians or blacks."

Well, here are the latest promotional photos from Abercrombie & Fitch's Black Friday sales.

Uh......right. Is "no fats femmes asians or blacks" their casting call motto? And before someone says "NO! There are totally some black and asian guys in there!" can we please be fucking honest? It's 2011 - sprinkling token minorities into the background, and grouping them together doesn't exactly count. That's like saying "No, there are TOTALLY black people in the film 'Steel Magnolias', they play the help and they don't have any lines." At least in the case of Steel Magnolias ithas the justification of being a very specific story about a very specific Southern White Experience. A&F? What's their excuse?

You can almost hear the voice of the Assistant Director saying "Wait! bring a black guy closer to the front! No, no not THAT close to the front!.... Just closER....yeah, ok good. Now put one more white boy in front of him. Ok, yeah. that's good. Now make sure those Asians in the back STAY in the back! Whew."

Concepts of beauty are Societal. They're not innate. Abercrombie & Fitch continue their legacy of worshipping Whiteness and telling people that White is what is beautiful. And not just white, a very specific square-jawed superbuffed version of white. Am I saying it's wrong to like white square-jawed adonis-built men? No. Not at all. I'm sayingit's more than a little disconcerting to see a sea of bonafide clones and then the most condescendingly sprinkled pockets of "colour" in the mass of cracker.

This sends out very specific messages: this is how you have to look to be beautiful. Incredibly muscled, square-jawed, and white. WHITE. A few of you non-whites might slip through the cracks and find yourself considered beautiful as long as you gym-buff that body to such a degree that you can effectively make one forget your ethnicity and focus instead on your body-fascist approved physique.

*le even bigger sigh*

This is the reason that people don't understand why their racial/ethnic preferences have a societal root and not an innate one. All the images of beauty and power and sexiness that we are culturally sold worship the Altar of Whiteness. And even when they get called out on it, repeatedly over the decades, they see no reason to change their ways. Why should they? They're not losing any money and money is all that matters. Right? To some, I suppose.

In a world where diversity is the only Universal Constant, and in 2011, it's just beyond depressing to see that not only is Beauty one thing (and one thing only) to a great many people, but the companies responsible for promoting that idea and concept have no intention whatsoever in actually being inclusive to diversity in their marketing. Not only do they not care about marketing to non-whites, they don't care about what their white-focused marketing does to everyone, white or otherwise, in our culture.

If I could ask Abercrombie & Fitch a favour it would be this - Can you please be more inclusive and celebratory of actual diversity in your advertising, your energy and your outlook? You are looked at by young people, you are indeed shaping the way that they see themselves and others. Be aware of that, and be responsible with this power. Beauty comes in many colours, shapes, sizes and demeanors.

----------------

*EDIT

Just released is this photo from Abercrombie & Fitch Singapore. Yeah, Singapore. And yet they still find a way to favour whiteness. *sigh*

You're Not *Really* Anti-Gay

Anti-Gay Conservatives are a funny bunch. And by funny I mean pathetic. It's the sheer hypocrisy of their illogical excuses that makes my wee little head spin.

Look at anti-gay males and you will see that they fall, exclusively, into one of TWO very specific subgroups of Collective Hypocrisy - those that (secretly or not-so-secretly) masturbate furiously to lesbian porn, and those that (exclusively secretly) masturbate furiously to gay male porn.

This neo-Nazi group in Poland that has adopted a "gay image" as their official anti-gay party logo. RIGHT. See? Male-male anal sex. It won't be an image of two lesbians performing oral sex on each other. How could it? These dudes no doubt LOVE watching lesbians have sex.

There are the fear-based factors: guys see male-male affection as a betrayal of gender. But not female-female affection because females only exist to sexually arouse straight males anyway ( in their minds...). So lesbians are fine because women aren't persons - they're just sex objects. This is why conservatives don't like the idea of women breast-feeding their infants in public: to them, breasts are sexual things. They're not, you know, those things nature intended to be used to feed the young. They object to a "woman breastfeeding" - forgetting it's about a child's right to be fed.

A straight man who is confident in himself and his attractions will not have any objection to gay males, male nudity, or male sexuality. Why? He's secure in who he is, and what he is, and nothing can shake that. The insecurities come from those who find an arousal toward members of the same gender; an arousal that they don't understand or cannot reconcile. Now, I'm not saying they're gay, or even classically bisexual - but there's an arousal. If you watch heterosexual pornography as a heterosexual man you are going to see other men in high states of sexual arousal and relief. Men are OBSESSED with phalluses. You're watching another dude with a girl. You might be watching 5 dudes with a girl. You can't freak out and say "eww, I saw another guy naked." How on earth do you survive looking in a mirror each day, or showering at a gym? It makes no sense to be repulsed by your OWN gender or sex - that's a fear-based reaction related to a societal fear of "being gay." Ugh.

But that's another story ;-) Back to the lesbians!!

The Average Joe guys that "hate fags" sure do love watching two smokin'-hot lesbians eating muff, and the Public Figure (be they political and/or religious) guys that preach anti-gay hatred sure love getting caught with their ankles in the air and a big fat cock up their ass. Or their lips on a bone in a public bathroom. Whatever.

It's the same old fucking story. They hate the gays, as long as it's men. Or they publicly hate gays because in secret they love men....a lot. You know, the way Hamlet loved his mother. A lot.

From this comes the miserable reality of their lousy nonexistent sex lives. These anti-gay women are not getting oral sex. They're not. Look at them. North Carolina congresswoman Virginia Foxx, porno-ready name aside, clearly hasn't had her beaver beaten or eaten since the end of Segregation. Her crazy ass probably thinks there's a direct connection, after all she's the one who claims that Integration was accomplished by Conservatives with little to no help from Liberals. Yeah..... sure, lady.

Oklahoma State Rep Sally Kern has made numerous appallingly anti-gay comments, including comparisons to bestiality. Now, in all fairness, bestiality is a subject Kern knows very well because her husband married a pig. NOM head Maggie Gallagher had a child out of wedlock in the 1980s, and has spent the last nearly-thirty years "atoning" for her sin by being as anti-gay as possible. She's also not had an orgasm in decades, as her vagina disappeared many years ago under what is known in some circles as a "gunt" (Google it...) It's been so long since she's seen it that technically her vagina has been declared legally dead.

Take Michele Bachmann (take her, PLEASE! haha). Now, Michele Bachmann's husband is not gay, but he is a closeted homosexual (there's a difference) who likely can only pound her if he rubs vaseline over his eyes, squints real hard, and tries to pretend that she's actually Matt Frewer circa 1995. (*Google It*) Bachmann is, of course, unable to enjoy much of anything as a broomstick is perpetually lodged up her ass, but the sad fact is the woman clearly hasn't had a tongue on her big bony meatflaps in decades. It's actually kind of sad. An orgasm, a real good earthshaking orgasm, could truly turn her life around. When you're getting satisfying sex in your own life you tend to not be so focused on imagining about the sex lives of others and then be angry at what you imagine they're doing.

These poor ladies are not getting oral sex, which many married women state is the only way they're able to achieve orgasm with their husbands, and thus are not having orgasms. At all. No wonder they're angry at the gays - our orgasms ROCK!

As for the males, you either get the ones whose uptight wives won't suck cock and thus they retreat to the world of online porn, or you get the males whose wives *would* suck their cocks but unfortunately their husbands can only get it up for the men they view via online porn.

Either way, neither group is actually anti-gay. They're just ashamed of how pro-gay they actually are.

Like I said, pathetic.

Love, Little Kiwi

Do You Even Know What You're Talking About?

I fully support the Occupy Wall Street movement and its related protests in other cities around the world. Fully. What is hilarious, however, are all these stupid "I'm writing on a piece of paper" rebuttals (if you can evencall them that....) wherein the person shows that not only do they not understand why the protesters are protesting, they don'teven understand what they're objecting to about the protesters, or WHY.

It's pretty much a case of people wanting to show how "not like those others" they are with a general sense of either right-wing Suck Up Syndrome, or a case of the "Anti-Whatevers" - you know, whatever is big, whatever is "popular", whatever

is being talked about anddiscussed...these people take the Anti stance. Deliberately contrarian. Why? Because they need to be different. Excuse me while I puke.

But seriously. These paper pics are fucking stupid.

Savage Honesty

Regardless of one's personal stance on Dan Savage, his response to this question is utterly perfect. The letter is, of course, typical. Everything about it is typical - it's the exact same thing that the exact same type of people say in the exact same way at the exact same stage in their life that this young man is at. It's the border-zone - the guy who wants to have the Gay Life without having to make the very specific sacrifices and acts of courage that every single LGBT person has to make in order to achieve an authentic existence. It's a lovely letter, actually, in that it perfectly encapsulates (via tone and word choice) what anti-gay culture and homophobia does to far too many gay people: it makes apologists of them. They want to have what others have, but don't want to do what those others had to do to get them. And Savage is spot-on in his reply. I hope this piece circulates and is reprinted over and over again - it's a perfect answer to an oft-asked question.

I'm a college freshman. I thought that college would be the place to come out, but the sad fact is that college hasn't changed anything. I'm still unable to admit my sexuality to my friends, teammates, classmates, and hallmates. I have thought about joining the LGBT organizations, but those guys are too "out" for me. Not that there's any problem with that. I just don't think that being gay is anyone else's business unless I want them to know. The hardest part is seeing other freshmen go out to parties, hook up, and date when I don't have the opportunity to do so. I've resorted to going on Craigslist, but my encounters have been weird. What should I do?

Closeted Undergrad

"You're not required to disclose who you're going out with, CU, or the gender of the folks you would like to go out with. But keeping your sexual orientation a secret indefinitely—not your sexual interests (which you can keep to yourself), but your sexual orientation—will ultimately warp your psyche and your life.

Think about it from the other side: What would the straight guys on your team have to do in order to hide their straightness from you? They could never mention their girlfriends, go out on dates, or hook up with someone they met at a party. They would have to hide their porn and be careful not to check out girls in public. They could never get engaged, get married, or have kids. They might be able to have furtive, secretive, and shame-driven sexual encounters with other closeted heterosexuals they met online or in places where closeted straight people gathered to have anonymous sex, but finding love—true and lasting love—would be extremely difficult.

It wouldn't be impossible—some gay people managed to find lasting love back in the bad old days—but it would be difficult. And the sneaking around and hiding and lying would ultimately warp their psyches and their lives.

If you don't want to get warped, CU, you're going to have to come out. And once you're out, you don't have to hang out with gay people with whom you don't click, and you don't have to be gay the way, say, the LGBT groupers on your campus are gay. Remember: Gay men who are out at your age (18?) tend to be a bit gayer than the average gay dude. They're out in part because they can't be in. And God bless 'em and more power to 'em and the gay rights/liberation movement would never have gotten off the ground without 'em.

But since you can pass, CU, you've had the option of waiting.

You have, of course, the option of never coming out. But as you're discovering, CU, it's hard to date in the closet, and DL-enabling sites like CL and Grindr aren't going to deliver the kind of connections you want. So long as you're limited to quickly arranged hookups with guys you don't know, can't risk getting to know, and can't be seen with in public, all of your encounters are going to be weird. Not because all the guys on CL or Grindr are weird—there are good guys on both sites—but because you're trying to have a life and keep it secret, and that tends to attract weirdos without lives.

Look, CU, you're only 18. You've got time. But what you're going to realize, in not too much more time, is that dating and finding love—or even just sex—inside the closet is nearly impossible. You can remain in the closet and keep your business secret, but you won't have much of a life in there. And when you realize that, CU, you'll come out. First to a friend or two, then to your family, then to everyone. And once you're all the way out, you'll find that the guys you've been focusing on—the "too out" guys—aren't the only gay guys out there. Just some of the best.

I know it's hard. But you can do it. All it takes is opening your mouth and saying the words."

Well done, eh? It's one of those things that a lot of gay men don't understand, sometimes even after they do in fact Come Out - you have to reconcile and come to terms and embrace being gay before you can ever hope to find happiness and healthiness in a same-sex relationship. The reality is just what Dan points out - "Not because all the guys on CL or Grindr are weird—there are good guys on both sites—but because you're trying to have a life and keep it secret, and that tends to attract weirdos without lives.  TRUTH.  Until you can stand on your own two feet as a confident and secure openly gay person, you're not going to be in a place where a relationship will have the freedom to thrive and fulfill.  But you can do it - just take the first step and don't look back.

The Work

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Zachary Quinto Officially Comes Out

http://www.zacharyquinto.com/news/2011/10/post.html

yes yes yes yes yes.

Beautifully worded, emotionally and intellectually honest. This is what Coming Out is about, and I for one am proud to call Zachary Quinto 'brother'.

Plus, as if it were even possible, this just made him about 100 times sexier.

I cannot stress enough how perfect Quinto's message is. There's truly not much else to say. I'm literally rendered speechless. What I feel about Coming Out, why it's so important, why it's so liberating, why it's necessary for a truly authentic existence....Quinto perfectly encapsulates it all.

A major factor in why my parents were completely accepting of me from the moment I Came Out to them is the reality that other LGBT people, whom were not blood relations nor even particularly "close" best friends of my family nevertheless made it their business to be Out to my parents. Out. As colleagues. Co-workers. Church members. Community members. These men and women made a point to be Out, to be known as members of the LGBT community, to people who included my mother and father. So when I Came Out there was no sudden ignorance-based fear of "Oh NO! Our son is gay! What does this MEAN!?!?" - they have a frame of reference. They already knew gay people. They had no reason to do anything other than love me exactly as they always had. The love didn't change, but there was indeed a new understanding of who I am, what I've been through, what has shaped me, and what I've been "up against" since childhood through adolescence. With it came the realization that "the family" has to Come Out, too. In support of the LGBT Community. It's not just the LGBT person that has to Come Out, the family has to Come Out with them in solidarity. This is how win the war against ignorance, prejudice, and hatred.

Quinto understands this. Read his blog post. Share it with family and friends. It's perfect.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thought For The Season

Listening to gays complain about "liberals" or "leftists" is like listening to Anne Frank complain about attics.

Seriously. Grow some orbs, you wimps.

WHY oh WHY?!?!

I get it that it's an army-surplus store and there's all sorts of kooky stuff for sale. But....Russian gas masks in children's sizes? Here in Canadialand? WHY? Either the fear of gas attacks still exists or there's a market for children with....uh..... odd fetishes. Either way, *ick*.

Saying Goodbye to a Hero

Jack Layton, leader of Canada's New Democratic Party (NDP), passed away a few weeks ago. He was a man I had admired for many years, and his death struck a chord with more Canadians than I think even he would have expected. For decades Canadian elections were a back and forth battle between the Progressive Conservatives and the Liberals - whichever party didn't win was always the Official Opposition Party. Well, not last time. The PCs won (boo! Hiss!) but for the first time in Canadian history, the NDP was the Official Opposition. The Liberal party suffered an historic defeat and the NDP an historic success. Canada's Green Party even won their first official seat, which thrilled me as I think Green party leader Elizabeth May is an absolute dynamo. An historic win - sending a message to not only the Liberal party to get their shit in order, but a message to NDP supporters and millions of other Canadians - we need to remember we're a country with multiple parties....we don't need to concede and vote for "the lesser of two evils."

I first met Jack Layton while I was out dancing at "Buddies" - my local go-to dance club - on a Saturday night out in Toronto when I was around 20/21 years old. Jack had come by to meet the young queer people of the city. Think about that - a candidate for Prime Minister going to one of the local gay nightspots to dance with the young gays, talk to them, listen to them, share with them, encourage them to vote and take an interest in politics.

Jack Layton always marched in the Pride Parades, too. Often his supporters had adorable signs which read "I'm a Layton Homosexual." Cute, eh?

(The last picture I've posted, though it's hard to read, is a snapshot of a chalk message which reads "Thank you for always marching in the Gay Pride Parades" - that's how important this man was to LGBT People - a leader that didnt' pay lip-service, this was a man who genuinely was proud to stand in solidarity with us, and call us Brother.)

This was a man, who with his wonderful wife Olivia Chow, absolutely championed the Equality of LGBT people. Ethnic minorities. The working class. The elderly. The poor. The needy. The "Us's", as Harvey Milk would say.

Was he perfect? No. Show me a politician that is and I'll show you a unicorn. But Jack was an incredible and compassionate man. Simply put, he made me proud to be a Canadian. He embodied what I love most about this country. He gave me Hope that a politician can be elected for the right reasons.

His absence is still felt. Weeks after his death, chalk messages and memorials and flowers and gifts still adorn the plaza of the Toronto City Hall. We won't see something like this in a long, long time.

It's been a number of weeks, and I still get a bit choked up about this. It was amazing for me, as a young guy still coming to terms with my comfort as a gay man, to find myself dancing and talking and sharing experiences with a legitimate party leader, and candidate for Prime Minister of Canada. It made me feel like I was worth something.

Thanks Jack.

Carrying Self-Hatred into Adulthood

You know, it's one thing when this sort of nonsense is being spouted by the younger gay guys who are still struggling with finding themselves in a homophobic, misogynistic patriarchal world that worships all things White!, Straight!, Male! and (for lack of better word) 'Typical."

I can *understand* it in the younger people. But to be passing off this same bullshit as one is approaching 40? REALLY? That's just sad. He's not talking about specifics, either. It's utterly amorphous concepts. Truly, think about it - he's not saying he doesn't watch "Glee" (heck I don't watch it either, but I don't make a point on Grindr or gay-social sites of saying I DON'TWATCH GLEE!), he's saying that he isn't into guys who LOOK LIKE they watch "Glee". He has an idea of what a person who watches Glee looks like, and acts like, and he's scared of that. One more grown-ass man who's still living in fear of the things his asshole father considered "Gay Stereotypes" - baseless, ignorant stupidity.

So....Oh, boo-hoo hoo. I got called a faggot by a gay man who thinks he can pass for straight (in a tank top and army shorts on a patio? gurrrrl, that's like Official Homo Summer Wear!). Oh no. I'm crushed. The reality is this - this guy calling me a faggot will not make his own life better. In fact it will continue to make his own life worse. He only finds security in being gay by making sure he's not seen as "one of those faggots." Until you as a gay man can stand on your own two feet as a gay man, without downplaying, compartmentalizing, editing, censoring or "distancing" yourself from other gay men, you will never ever EVER find happiness, joy and authenticity in life.

Who was this guy? Quite likely the guy that joined in making fun of the "school faggot" as a child.  I'm sure a lot of us have met those guys later in life.  We remember them, they made fun of gays, laughed at fags, didn't get targeted themselves of course.  And then years later we see them at Woody's one night.  You join the throngs of haters in hating "them" in hopes the haters won't laser in on you.

The good news is that a lot of young gay people are learning this at a younger age. They're getting over these issues before they reach their midtwenties, or even actual adulthood. Alas, there are the throwbacks - the guys that never got over it. Good luck in life to any of you who think you will find happiness as a gay man, entering into gay relationships, when you're still being "proud" of your supposed ability to pass for something that you're not.

And here's the kicker - you're actually not fooling anyone. You may think that people can't 'tell' that you're gay, or don't know - you're wrong. They can tell. They know. And they also all know how insecure you are about it. That's why they never bring it up. Sure, they've askedgeneral questions, expecting you to mention a boyfriend, or some indicator that YES, you are in fact gay. And then they notice how you avoid it. No straight people are vague about their heterosexuality - only insecure homosexuals try to pull off that shit and pretend it isn't glaringly obvious.

S0 YES, they notice. Yes, they know. Yes, they can tell. And so they can also tell that you're a doormat - an insecure boy posing as a man. It's just terribly weak.
Nobody has bluntly asked "are you gay", because:

1. nobody asks that question because in a still-bigoted culture it's considered "rude" and "too personal" to ask such a question.

2. they can tell and they can tell how insecure you are about it and how you avoid it, so they therefore don't bother to bring up something that you clearly have such ridiculous baggage about.

Nearly 40 and still taking pride in (unsuccessfully) passing yourself for something you're not? I can't think of anything less *manly* - that's being an insecure little boy.

This is not about masculinity, nor even perceptions of it.  It's the sheer simple fact that no masculine, confident, secure gay man would say the things this man has said.  This is what self-hatred looks like. And that's not masculine.

*edit. I was recently mailed this new pic of the same dunce. Love the new words. What a big man he is, eh? ;-)

352.6 Miles or 567.454694 kilometers (as we say in Canada)

I didn't do a 9/11 post, like everyone else on planet. I did, however, compete in yesterday's unofficial "Most Deep & Meaningful Facebook Status" competition. Not to make light of the September 11th attacks, nor the 10 year anniversary of them. I, like many others, do have "my 9/11 story" - my memories of that day, my memories of my feelings on that day, and the greater impact of knowing that we do indeed now live in a "Post-9/11" World. Yes. The world changed. As one in the arts, who was in the US that day (Boston, to be precise), who was unable to get home for a number of days, and as one who has lived in NYC and thus knows a great many people who lost a great many people on that day understand that I am not mocking the sentiments the day brings, nor am I pretending it doesn't hurt me either. It does. A lot. The fear, the loss, the emotional pull to those you want to have close to you but for whatever reason cannot. I get it. I feel it. I honour it. In the grand scheme of things I did indeed "learn something" out of the emotional maelstrom (I've always wanted an excuse to use that word!) of conflicting emotion and fear that 9/11 was and in many ways still is. Live for Now. Honour Every Moment. Love instead of Hate. Find grace instead of anger, forgiveness instead of vengeance. Make each moment count because it might be your last.

True sentiments, to be sure, no matter how Hallmark Cardtm they may seem. But that's not all I learned. It wasn't all kumbaya.

Yesterday I just made the choice to stop looking back. Here's what I've learned 10 years later.... I have been given a gift to still be here - ten years later. I honour it by looking forward. I was a 19 year old twink when it happened. Heck, I'd only graduated highschool a few months earlier! And where I was in my life was not a positive place. It was a life of hurt. I'd just Come Out, I was full of self-doubt and insecurity and out of my teenage desperation for validation I was (at the time) dating a guy who in truth certainly didn't like me very much, let alone love me, and yet we insisted on inflicting pain on each other for way too long because, hey, that's what stupid young dudes do. Two incompatible Kids playing Grown-Up.

It's a pattern I repeated in many relationships in my life. All kinds of relationships. Kristin Wiig's character in "Bridesmaids"?? Hi, Me! For real. Seeing that was like "Ouch, me."

But I'm not that anymore. I won't kneel (unless you make it worth my while, *wink wink*) and I won't allow myself to be mistreated by people and (mis)used by them as a tool to repair their own deflating egos or angers.

In all areas of my life I let people use me. My acting teachers pointing it out - I "apologize" with my pelvis when I stand - the pelvic tilt; subconsciously physically submitting to people, letting them control me. Friends who kept me around because they liked having a "sidekick", not an Equal. Work - employers and fellow employees who treated me like shit because I let them. Relationships - boys who liked how I made them feel about themselves; desired, sexy, powerful, in control. Sex. They didn't like me, they liked being a King.

The years spent allowing myself to let other people use me for their own intentions. I have let myself submit to people, and I have allowed them to use me. It was my doing. A codependency I clearly sought out. It's self-punishment.

Not the most expected lesson to be gleaned from the 10th anniversary of the September 11th attacks, yet I can't deny that that's what I was feeling. That's where my mind is today - and that's where I was 10 years ago.

It's been ten years. From 19 to 29. Nineteen - The kid who let himself be used by anyone and everyone in the hopes that one day they might be 'nice' and thus make me feel like I was finally worth something. The kid who would go running back to a 'boyfriend' that not only didn't love me but didn't even actually *like* me, because we clearly were more scared of being alone than of being unhappy with each other. Being terrified of sex at the same time as thinking of little else. (hi, I was a teen). I mistook a case Stockholm Syndrome for Love with the first dude I was ever with (that's sorta canon for all of us, right?) and that was a fun beginning to my association of sex and my sense of self-worth. I was involved in a "secret sexual relationship" with a guy, at age 18. I asked him why we couldn't date publicly and was flatly told "We can't...everyone will laugh at me." That's my first experience being with a guy - being told, straight up, that we can only be together in secret because people will laugh at him if they find out he's seeing me. And I believed it. And I carried that for years, and didn't even realize it. People didn't want me, not the "me" that existed in public. Young enough, insecure enough, and in truth SAD enough to want something to be something it utterly was not, nor really should have been. You hold onto pain and pretend it's love because at least it's something.

I know that you can't love anyone else, and nobody else can truly love you, if you don't love yourself. It's the main thesis of every self-help book ever. There. I just saved you buying one and reading it. That's the message. Most importantly, at this junction in my life, is the acceptance that some cycles will repeat until you put your foot down and demand that they end. Things "keep happening to you" because you let them. People "hurt you again" because you allowed them to. You can't care too much if they don't care as much. Just accept it and step back as well. It's cool. I'm 29 now. Homey gon' play dat.

It's amazing what you learn in a decade. In a post-9/11 world where countries and cultures still wrestle with racism, bigotry, religious fervor and phobias, lies and wars and fights. Truth in art and lies in politics. Forging friendships with people who (finally!) speak the same instinctual language. Friendships, even seemingly "trivial" ones, that are incredibly meaningful, and caring no matter how brief your time together. The person whom you can call up a few times a year on the phone, and rather than any sort of guilty "I know we haven't talked in a while" energy you both just pick up right where you left off. You get it. We have our own lives in different places and spheres of social existence. But we still care. We reach out to each other and respond to each other. Sometimes you reach out to someone, and the response takes a while. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe months. No ill will, just not priority. Sometimes the response never comes. Sometimes we deserve it. Lord knows I've earned it. You try again, and then again. No response. And then you feel like an idiot, an asshole, an annoyance and a failure. Gut kicked, you then realize that you do this, too. It's not "bad", really. Not even negative. At least not always. You just don't care. That's really it. "You'll get back to them." They keep reaching out, and you (for whatever reason) just go "uh...meh....uh.." because you just don't care. And you're allowed not to. And you may get back to them, and you may not. In life there are many types of relationships in which you care about someone more than they care about you. And we all do it, and we've all had it done to us. Friends. Lovers. Partners. Acquaintances even. Energies change, energies shift. Sometimes one feels it, sometimes you both feel it. Most times, though, one person feels it more than the other. So they step back. I've stepped back. I've been stepped away from. We don't all run in sync forever. And that's ok.

Like that Tori Amos lyric, "Girls, you've got to know when it's time to turn the page, or when you're only wet because of all the rain." *Yeah, I was that boy in high school with his Tori Amos obsession. Blame her for all of this.* I apologize to everyone I clung to too hard. I apologize to anyone and everyone I've pushed away. I also forgive everyone who hurt me. Yeah. I forgive you for everything that you will never apologize for, or even admit to. Those that used me know that they used me. And I'm saying that I know that you know. And you won't apologize. I forgive you anyway. I'm just ending a pattern in my life that's only ever hurt me. Its hurts badly, eh? But it's ok, because we all go through it. And we all mend. Standing there, on two feet. Like little Rory Calhouns.

And then, at age 29, a kiss that changed my life and made me know that it's all worth it. That someone can actually like me because they actually like me, not just that they like the way I make them feel about themselves. And it happens with different people, and it's almost magical. The moment your energies just go *ZZZING!* and you snap into each others orbits. I think of my incredible flatmates in London whom I love so dearly. Did you notice I said that sorta British-y? My love for my best friend in the entire world, Ryan, who for ten years has allowed me to grow and stumble (but never so hard that I can't get up) and accepts my weirdness and calls me on my shit because he loves me. And I love him. The people you share your life with whom you connect on an instinctual level. I don't know how else to describe it without sounding like a hippie.

And that kiss. Oh, that kiss.

No matter how far away we are, or whatever crazy turns the universe throws at us, nothing will ever change the truth and purity of it.

So there.

Anti-Gay Rabbi Believes God is an Anti-Semite?

WHOOOOO-boy. Well, someone appears to be a big old idiot. This is, of course, utter bollocks. This man is, of course, not in any way a voice for the Jewish community. He's a far-right ultra-Orthodox Jewish Rabbi in NYC who might as well be their version of Fred Phelps. He's not taken seriously by Jews, nor by any other human beings with functioning brains.

Still, his anti-gay prejudice is so intense that he literally is now saying that God didn't mind that the Holocaust happened, or that slavery happened, or racial segregation, or any of the wars around the world. God doesn't mind any of those things, apparently God only cares that gay couples are marrying.

Because that makes sense. This guy is hilarious - it's as if Harvey Fierstein and Woody Allen collaborated to bring a ridiculous character to life. Like an ultra-Orthodox Jewish version of Kane from "Poltergeist II: The Other Side."

And note the sibilant S sounds he hisses out. Yeah, Mary. Exactly. He's one of "those".

Typical.

That's Just Racism

Oh, look. Another gay racist. *barfs all over his own cock*

I don't even know where to begin with how ugly this is. Now, I'm going to ignore the put-to-rest body fascist that lived inside me once upon a time, because as I've lived and learned I've grown to appreciate and see beauty in all shapes and sizes. It's not what you have, it's how you are about it, how you carry yourself.

But LORD is it hard, as bitch makes it way too easy with his food analogies. With all those dietary restrictions one can only wonder what he IS eating and exactly how much? Does this look like a man who has ever turned down food? What *does* he like? White bread sandwiches with lots of ham and mayo?

Ok, enough. I don't like body-facism, but I also don't like racism and this dude just made it too easy.

Ugh.

Childhood Toys

Going through old storage boxes in my parent's basement, I found some old toys from my childhood that had yet to be given away to needy children.

Aside from the still-working E.T. Furbie making me shit my pants when it started talking me in the darkness of the basement, it was an oddly fun and emotional experience to once again hold these toys, then pack them up to be given to charities.

We all, as children, anthropomorphize our toys. We project an assumption that they care about us as much as we care about them. I guess another factor for me, and I assume many, is that these inanimate objects were often our substitute for real friends. I was the local fag by age 7. I lost myself in fantasy at home with my toys. I was frankly a little bit stunned at the sizable lump in my throat as I saw these toys again and held them for one last time. Total TOY STORY 3 moments. I actually hurt - like I was saying goodbye to a friend and savior. In a way, I suppose I was.